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Showing posts from 2017

Pivotal Moments

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I'm lucky that in my (almost) 42 years on this planet, I can look back and see pivotal moments that changed the direction and shape of my life. In fact, without even realizing it, I've often blogged about them. There's the one when a sick day spent at my grandmother's house and a piece of "junk" mail led me to the medical field and working with kids. You can read about that one here . Then there was the time I was getting allergy shots and my next door neighbor's step-mother said the words that gave me direction in my career. That story, in addition to directing my career, also gave me inspiration for the book of which I'm most proud, Live for This . That book even won an award this year. You can read that story here . And how about that time that the use of a standard comma instead of the oxford comma led me to meet my husband? That's a funny one, although not really, because the PT/Speech therapy cap is STILL limited by that damn lack of co

Trippin' on a Hole

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When I was in college, at the apex of the grunge/alternative music movement, I grew to like Stone Temple Pilots. They were (and still are) my favorite of the 90s bands. While at work one day (I was a waitress at an Applebees), the bartender, my friend Jeff, mentioned how he'd gone to the STP show the night before at UMass. I was terribly envious that Jeff had been to see them live. Jeff didn't realize I was a fan, and if he'd known, he said he would have brought me. Jeff went onto describe the opening number, STP's cover of "Dancing Days" and how Scott Weiland sang it sitting on a couch wearing an afro wig. It was well known that Scott Weiland was a heroin addict and was most likely losing that battle. This was early 1997. Neither Jeff nor I thought Scott Weiland would live to see another tour cycle, and that neither of us would see him perform live again. We were only half right. June 26, 1997, while driving home from our apartment, after a night of drink

Don't Do It

I was scrolling through my Facebook feed, as one does on a Saturday morning, sipping my coffee, when I came across an article (from a radio station) about how "Motherhood is less and less appealing to Jennifer Lawrence" or J-Law as apparently we're supposed to call her. Here's my advice. Don't do it. I am the mother of two. I love my kids. They are without a doubt the best things in my life. And I ABSOLUTELY wanted to be a mother. My whole career was literally planned around it. But, man, is it hard. Like, hard . There are days (perhaps one or two this week) when I want to give up. When I want to run and hide. And my kids are older (13 and 10). We're not in the screaming all night, potty training, "I do it myself" phase. My kids are relatively self-sufficient human beings. In fact, the 13 year-old made the coffee and delivered it to me in my room, complete with a biscotti (side note: I highly recommend teaching your kids how to make coffee).

End of Summer Reflections

I'm tired and I'd rather just vlog this than type it all about but the bags under my eyes are horrendous due to lack of sleep. So, I apologize in advance for the disjointed, rambling nature of this post. Consider this some true blather, more a collection of my thoughts. August is over. Holy crap, where did it go? Summer, come back. Please.  I had 3 days of work this week. It sort of sucked especially since my kids were off. My parents were super awesome and took the kids, but I missed them. I liked being at home this summer. I'm having difficulty watching the news out of Houston. It makes me anxious and panicky. It doesn't mean I don't feel terrible about what people are doing down there, and I'll be doing my bit (besides the praying I've already been doing) to help. But I don't want to see it. I'm about to launch my 10th book. I'm having trouble wrapping my brain around the fact that I've written 10 books (9 novels and a novella). Tha

#RWA2017

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I just got back from RWA 2017. For those of you not in my writing world, RWA is the Romance Writers of America, and this was their national conference, held in Orlando, FL. But to me, RWA stands for Really Wicked Awesome. Why was this week so great? So. Many. Reasons. First of all, I got to go and hang with my posse. My inner circle. My writing peeps who I talk with every day online, who are with me every step of the way, and I with them. It's extra special being able to actually see them, hang out with them, brainstorm with them, and laugh until you cry with them. These are my friends  and seeing them for four days a year isn't nearly enough. Melissa Baldwin , Becky Monson , and me at the RITA Awards Taking the boat to Disney Springs. It's the only Disney experience I had the whole time because I was too busy learning. Last day, so sad. :-( Next, I got to meet in person people in my outer writing circle. People I've "known" online for y

On Writing, Quilting, and Letting Go

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I've written before about how I have a hard time letting go. And I do. If I let myself, I would always live in the past. But living in the past doesn't let you be present or anticipate the future. I can't say it's been a conscious effort, and I still love my 90s music, but I find myself more and more in the present. I started writing my first book about 6 1/2 years ago. I finished it 6 years ago this week, and titled it Good Intentions . Some of you may be familiar with it. At that time, I'd been married for almost ten years had two young kids (ages 7 and almost 4). I was slowly climbing out of the haze and daze of those yearly years of infancy, toddlerhood, bottles, diapers, potty training, pre-school, home ownership, home renovation, going back to school, raising a special needs child, and being a working wife and mother. I struggled to hold onto me . As with most of my life, I was in between friends. I've always done that. Been good friends with a group, th

I'm Becoming a Polygamist

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Yup, it's true. I've become a polygamist. A book polygamist that is. I've always been a one-book at a time woman. I don't know what is up with me right now, but I've got three going, and want to be with a fourth. I'm reading the Throne of Glass  series by Sarah J. Maas. I've read the first 3 books in the past 2 weeks and am waiting for #4 from the library. I really need it to come in quickly because, well, it's getting good. To whatever end . Sigh. Then there's the pool book I started. I kept it in the beach bag. It's a traditional romance, Everywhere and Every Way  by Jennifer Probst. Well written and sexy. I feel the black moment coming. I hate the black moment. Then, I'm beta reading the upcoming Whitney Dineen chick lit book. It was not what I expected, but it's super cute, and I can't wait to see what happens. Then, I'm listening to Friends Without Benefits  by Penny Reid. But I can't stop thinking about Nic

My Big Break...Or Not.

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It only took a minute. Certainly not two. That rise of emotion. That burst of hope. Staring at the information I'd copied down from the voice mail message, my brain whirring in a hundred different directions. I knew it was too good to be true. But what if it wasn't? What if this was really it? My big break. We hardly ever check our home voice mail. Today, my husband went through and listened. Our insurance agent, trying to get us to refinance our car. A car dealership. And then, a message for me. Someone seeking me out, looking to represent one of my books at an international book event. I made my husband replay the message and wrote everything down. I hadn't been listening the first time, and this time I did. Quickly, I posted in a Facebook group for authors. Then a Google search. I had my answer. No need to return the phone call. A scam. And that hope, which had only swelled for mere moments was dashed, anger flooding in to replace it. How dare they? I work ha

Four Years of Thankfulness

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Four years ago, I began my journey as an independent author. Four years ago, as I chaperoned my daughter's Kindergarten field trip, I anxiously checked my phone and waited for those first few sales to start. I had a goal. I had to sell 4 books to re-coup the cost I'd spent on the cover (yes, can you believe I paid money for that first awful cover). I knew nothing. Absolutely nothing. My book was woefully unedited. I had it edited. I changed the cover. I published a paperback, making it somehow real. I started writing my second book. And I waited. It didn't sell much. More than the 4 books I needed, but not much more. Then I learned. I networked, I listened, I worked. I wrote. And I wrote. And I wrote. In the 4 years since Good Intentions  was published, I've released 9 titles (8 novels and 1 novella). I hope by the end of this year to have 10 novels out. And I wouldn't be here without the support of so many. No man is an island, and certainly no one in

Holding On and Letting Go

It's a beautiful, sunny day. The windows are open, the kids are outside playing. The winter coats are hanging up. It's 60 degrees ... in February. Before I can even question this gift that Mother Nature is bestowing, I'd best get to my point. After about eight or so years of threatening to work on our basement, my husband has actually started it. Long story short--we had a finished basement. Due to the incompetency of our contractors ten years ago, we lost it, having to gut it down to the walls and floor. The rebuilding process has not been speedy. In the meantime, that area has become a dumping ground and storage area. For the past six weeks, my husband has been cleaning out, which included several dump runs. Now, mind you, I've been asking him to get a dumpster for years because I knew we couldn't start work without cleaning out first. It doesn't matter who suggested it. All that matters is that it's getting done. Except now my husband wants me to move